Jagged Soul
by Thieving Jedi
Summary: Who was the woman that started Atton Rand down the path to redemption? Yes, this is a KotoR II Fan Fiction, taking place some time before the game.
1. The Stalker

**J****AGGED**** S****OUL**

(_Star Wars – Knights of the Old Republic II - Fan Fiction_)

**

* * *

SPOILER warning SPOILER warning**

**T**_ime Set_  
A bit before KotoR II

**C**_haracters_  
Well who could it be? Hates Jedi, kills Jedi, makes them feel a REAL LOT of pain and has alot of fun doing so. Oh – and he's obsessed with Pazaak. Now I've given it away, haven't I?

Alas, everyone who knows me will soon figure out why I dig this character so much and how there was no way I'd pass up on that Fan Fiction.

**D**_isclaimer and other **N**otes_  
Everything Star Wars is sooooo copyrighted and owned by LucasArts and the prospective companies creating the KotoR games and characters.  
… and I'm not native English, so excuse my vocabulary, will you?

**R**_equest_  
Due to me being a wanna-be author who is working on her skills… I would like to ask everyone who can spare a moment of their precious time to be harsh to me. I need the critique.

Now on for the fun. This is my first try on something darker, I hope I can get it across.

**

* * *

**

**T**_he_** S**_talker_

The crowd on the market square was thick and so was the fog of emotions.

Bodies – alien, human, or mixes in-between – shifted in an uneven rhythm, pushing, avoiding, constantly in motion. Even those that stood in front of the merchant stalls, admiring what was for sale, fidgeted and twisted. They pointed, laughed, pulled out credit chips and then, as soon as their business was concluded, slipped back into the mass of moving bodies.

Situated a little off the center of the market square, was an elegant fountain with stepping-stones crossing through the sheets of falling water. Children of various races and ages – all that didn't matter, united in their games – ran through the jets, carefully dodging each other and the assaults of water spraying across the fountain.

It was chaos, yet peace.

Serenity, mixed with the deafening noise of joy.

Untouched, or maybe even inspired, by the crowd around them, was a pair of statues standing not far from the fountain's mid section. They were statues of flesh and blood of course, two humans in a still embrace.

He had watched them for quite a while now, had seen how they hardly ever moved to look at each other, or to whisper. They were no lovers, but the kinship of blood was a strong bond that kept brother and sister forever connected. Even if one of them had followed a codex that frowned upon this emotional tie.

In his mind he had nicknamed them the _center of the storm. _That small spot of tranquility surrounded by the rampant winds where one might seek temporary shelter. And ironically, he considered himself a part of that storm.

_Rage – Fear – Guilt_

A smile crept to his lips. Faint and lethal, and not quite reaching his eyes.

_Delight – Lust – Exhilaration_

The stalker, which was what some of his men called him, stepped away from the building flank and pushed his frame into the crowd. At first he was forced to follow the tide, moving with them, but soon he was back on course and headed straight for the fountain. Long, yet not hurried, strides took him to the fountain's edge, where the masses parted to avoid stray droplets of water. As soon as he reached them, the stalker acted.

He twisted his right hand – attached to his wrist at the bottom was a transponder – and keyed a sequence on the device. There was no affirmative _BEEP _or _CLICK, _instead, one of the stalls at the eastern corner of the marketplace went up in a thunderous explosion.

The explosives had been expertly set. It was just enough to blast the stall apart – along with the merchant droid – and scatter both debris and injured bodies into the crowd. Through the chaos that followed after the detonation, the stalker gained another moment to watch his target.

He had pulled his sister to the ground with him, shielding her instinctively, and was now scanning the area with watchful eyes and an equally alert mind. But there were too many for him to filter.

Carefully, the target got to his feet and the girl pulled herself up on his coat, clinging to his back like a scared gizka. Children dissolved from the scene, running into the crowd to find their parents.

_Confusion – Panic_

The stalker drew his weapon –a standard issued blaster pistol concealed in his jacket– and squeezed off one precise shot.

The girl jerked backwards as the blast hit her chest.

Her hands did not quite let go of her brother as she fell, and the target was almost thrown off balance, stumbling with his falling sister. He cried out, "_Tiona_", and knelt beside the crumbled figure, searching her for the wound that spilled bright crimson blood to mingle with the fountain's water.

'_What a pathetic excuse for a challenge…_' He was throughout disappointed.

While the target tore at the dying woman's clothing to locate the wound, the Stalker quickly closed the distance between them. When the desperate brother then finally _did _looked up it was already too late. Realization crossed the young features; a moment in which all what was left of the carefully trained calm was shattered. The target's hands were only quick enough to grab his weapon, but he had no time to use it.

The Stalker's boot connected with his chin and sent the target flying backwards. His skull cracked against the ground, creating a hollow thud, and the lightsaber hilt dislodged itself from his grip. It bounced across the stone pavement, stopping as it hit the rim of a stepping-stone.

"Bad move, Jedi" taunted Rand as he loosened two more shots from the blaster pistol, each intended for one kneecap. Cries of pain mingled with the target's throaty pleads to spare his sister, but unfortunately, for that it was already too late.


	2. Enroute

This chapter introduces Anah'ya, the second main character of this story before continuing on to Atton's part. To prevent any kind of confusion I'll also mention that everything that's italic at first is a memory/dream.

Also, thanks for reading everyone! The next update might take a bit longer, as I already had this one ready.

**-o-o-o-o-**

**Enroute**  
_  
__"Ana?" _

_The woman's voice that gently called her name almost lost itself in the background noise of Coruscant's Upper Levels. But through the bond shared between Master and Padawan she had never before needed spoken words to listen, or to understand. It should have stirred her right now, alerted her of her mentor's presence, as it had always done ever since the bond had been shaped. _

_The empty silence in its stead was unbearable. There was nothing, not even an echo that would pass for anything resembling the severed connection. _

_"Anah'ya…" _

_A hand gently touched her shoulder, but Anah'ya had her eyes steadily directed downwards into one of Coruscant's traffic gorges. She wondered briefly how long a fall down there might take. _

_"Hey, Pad'wan. Have you already lost all respect for me?" her mentor teased lightly. _

_Finally, Anah'ya tore her gaze from the depth. She turned around, resting her back against the railing, to stand face to face with her Master. The familiar pair of gentle fawn colored eyes met hers and an honest – yet strained – smile whispered across her Master's lips. Anah'ya noted everything that was familiar about the woman… Her dark auburn hair kept in check by a fragile golden string, a masterpiece considering the unspeakable length, and the simple Ossus robe wrapping around her body… No, she didn't look different. _

_And yet she was. _

_Anah'ya could only recognize her visually. Where there should have been a familiar presence, was nothing but a screaming spot of pain and emptiness wedged into the force. _

_"They had no right to do this", Anah'ya stated quietly, watching as her Master's eyes darkened momentarily. _

_"We both know the council to have a poor judgment." A trace of spite was mixed into the hushed voice. "_But_ be that as it may, your place is still with the Order." _

_Anah'ya blinked at her Master and opened her mouth to speak, but the woman shook her head. _

_"This is my burden. _My_ path, and not yours. I asked Kavar to arrange a new Master for you and he assured me that you will be well taken care of"- there was a momentary silence between them until the woman continued -"You have such great potential Ana. I do not want you to waste this gift of yours out of stupid loyalty. _

_There… would be nothing worse to me than seeing you throw it away for nothing. Do you understand me?" _

_Anah'ya nodded dutifully. She wanted to protest it and give in to the pain that wrecked her soul, but doing so would mean to defy not only the code, but also the wish of her, now _former_, Master. _

_"Good…"- the whisper of a smile touched the corner of the woman's lips as she rested both hands on Anah'yas's shoulders -"Don't think I won't check on you. I will return, and when I do, I want to be able to call you Jedi _Master_ Zar. Nothing less." _

_"I will not disappoint you. I promise," her voice trembled slightly, but the tears were safely held back. "I will become everything you wanted me to be." _

_There was no embrace to conclude their goodbye and no more words of comfort spoken. Her former Master merely nodded before turning on her heels and heading down the walkway that connected the Jedi Order temple with the nearest landing pads. Her walk was that of a woman who had always carried an unspoken weight on her shoulders, only that it had just now become unbearable. _

_Anah'ya watched her… her heart beating furiously against her chest. The pressure of sorrow grew with every passing moment, until the girl thought she could no longer take it. Her vision blurred as tears broke through the controlled mask, and her hands had to tightly grip the railing before she could lose her balance. __  
_

_.  
__  
_'Wake up now!_' her own voice screamed at her from a distance. __  
_

_.  
__  
__The girl gasped. Through the mist of tears, Anah'ya saw Coruscant twist and change. All around her departing Master the buildings stretched quickly into solid walls surrounding the woman. A dark room formed around her Master, resembling a cargo hold of sorts with crates stacked along the walls. __  
_

_.  
__  
_'Wake!'_  
_

_.  
__  
__But she didn't. Instead, she allowed the force to show her the glimpse into the yet-to-be. A door at the far side of the room slid open, allowing a sinister red glow to flood inside, followed by the familiar hum of an idle lightsaber. _

_"Not so fast," called an intimidating voice, and her Master spun around to face the shrouded man joining her within the hold. She too, had changed. Her hair was cropped just below her shoulder and her face lined with fatigue. _

_"I won't fight you… murderer…" _

_"Depriving me of the fun? Uh well, both works for me. Maybe I'll just take my time with you." _

_With that he lazily spun the lightsaber in his right hand, fanning it out like a disk of deathly red light, before lunging at the woman._

oo-oo-oo

Anah'ya screamed. She felt hands grabbing her shoulder, pushing her back, and instinctively tried to fend them off.

"Agh, Pretty! Stop!" a stranger called out and the girl opened her eyes. At first she felt disorientated – lost – simply out of place – until her eyes registered the interior of the multi-passenger shuttle. Next to her, the stranger spoke again, his voice the final cue for her to snap out of the nightmare.

_'The memory…'_

"That was one hell of a bad dream you had there, girl. You okay?" he asked, carefully patting her shoulder.

"Yes… why… yes, thank you…" Anah'ya forced a smile and looked at the gentle man's features. An aura of good radiated from him, something she knew she wasn't going to be able to feel much of where she was headed.

"We're almost there, by the way," he added and pointed past her towards the window next to her. She followed his gesture, staring down at a rapidly advancing city. Within minutes the space shuttle reached the designated starport, where the pilot managed a sloppy landing.

As passengers began to gather their belongings and file out towards the exit, Anah'ya fought to control her emotions. Her stomach turned violently with the fear gnawing at her being, reminding her that this place – Desrien City, one of the many Sith Academies – would soon test even the last of her remaining strength.

She picked up the backpack, which held all of what she had left, and waited for her turn to get up and exit the shuttle.

"I still wonder what a good girl like you is gonna do in a place like this," the man cut into her thoughts with a gravely asked question as he offered her a helping hand. Anah'ya stared at it for a moment before accepting the offer with a slight shrug.

"I have a job to do."

And she would be damned to stop now that she had come so far.

**-o-o-o-o-****  
**

**Desrien Orbital Station – Crew Quarters **

His reflection hovered behind the thin layer of vapor, a mere ghost of his own self silently staring back at him. Atton reached up to wipe the vapor from the mirror. The image was still blurred, but at least it had regained some color.

"I heard you've outdone yourself again, Captain Rand."

He decided to ignore the woman's muffled voice through the closed door behind him, and focused instead on the reflection. His pale dirty-green eyes somehow appeared more inclined towards brown today, but they never could quite make up their mind as far as they were concerned.

"Five captures in one week, and a not to disregarded body count"- there was a short pause in which she tapped her knuckles against the door –"quite impressive. Rumors have it you are in for another promotion."

Atton brought one hand to his chin, trying to look thoughtful – '_Two-and-a-half-day's shadow, not too shabby_' – before giving his reflection a lopsided grin. She was going to be royally pissed upon hearing the whole truth… and he'd break it to her bit-by-bit. "Major" Atton commented loud enough for her to hear. "At times even rumors come through." He turned away from the mirror, snatched up his shirt and pulled the black, short-sleeved fabric over his head.

It felt astonishingly good to have regained the privilege of taking a real shower – which was paradise in comparison to the sonic one offered by the cruisers as they moved him from one wretched planet to the next.  
Having _her_ show up only an hour after he had loaded in, had been unexpected. And even so it was merely a slight nuisance, heavily outweighed by the previous relief.

Outside, the woman whistled. "You've passed me then."

"Indeed, I have. Was just a question of time." He grinned at the thought and unconsciously ran one hand through his short brunette hair. It was still damp.

'_Bless the _real_ stuff._'

Atton punched the door-opening switch. The door slid open to reveal a tall redhead, Marissa Lapen, standing only inches from the frame. She smiled and held out her hands, palms up. "Missed me?"

For a moment, Atton was tempted. But the curious glint in the emerald eyes of his long-time 'casual relation' and former classmate stopped him. "I was seriously crushed…" he muttered, and as she stepped forward to him took the opportunity to slip past her.

He didn't have to see her face in order to see the smile faltering. His on the other hand turned into a full-fledged beam.

"_But_ I'm pleased to inform you that luck is on your side Rissa." Atton walked over to his bunk and retrieved the still fully packed backpack. Marissa followed him relentlessly.

"I had a talk with command shortly before I arrived at the station… and it appears they found another use for me," he continued, turning so he could see her reaction.

"That would be?" Her eyebrows were arched and he swore she was battering her eyelashes at him.

"Me and two of my men actually. They transferred us to your unit."

At first Marissa almost smiled. But when she realized the complication in the transfer her mask dropped into a straight-out frown.

"They _what_?"

Did her voice just pitch? Atton arched an eyebrow at her. "You heard me right. And it's 'They what, _Sir_? Now if you would excuse me, I have a shuttle to catch…"

Marissa apparently regained some of her posture and attempted to step in his path. "But…"

"But, Sir. I'm going to take my two weeks leave now and I'm sure you didn't expect me to waste any of that, did you?"

"Waste!"

Oh yes, her voice certainly was very highly pitched at the moment.

"I'll be on the surface… but I'm sure my _second in command_ can handle things from up here, can't you?"

With that he strolled out of his quarters and headed down the corridor towards the turbolifts. He was surprised that she didn't come storming after him, but more so amused by the tirade of curses echoing through the corridor.


End file.
